


variations on a theme

by staunchly_anonymous



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2019-09-07 07:03:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 50
Words: 11,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16849381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staunchly_anonymous/pseuds/staunchly_anonymous
Summary: a collection of all the non-HH/YAG 'verse related prompt fills from tumblr, posted in no order, because i don't want to lose them to tumblr's voidpairings denoted in chapter titles/index





	1. your move; nurseydex

**Author's Note:**

> original prompt: "at the local coffee shop, there’s a chess set set up in one corner of the shop and every morning i move one piece. later in the day, someone else always moves a piece too. i’m dying to know who i’m playing against."

Narrowing his eyes at the chess board, Derek gnawed at the inside of his lower lip. Oh, he was good. Derek would have to think harder about his next move if he wanted to win. Annoyed, he turned away from the chess set, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair he’d slung it across while closing the coffee shop. Zipping up, he twirled his keys around an index finger before shutting the last light off and heading for the door.

Sliding into the front seat of his car, Derek frowned. He’d been so  _sure_ he’d catch sight of the guy moving the chess pieces. The chess set had been in his direct line of sight for most of the day. Somehow, despite his efforts, the guy had managed to take his bishop without being spotted.

Not that he knew, for certain, that it was actually a man – it was just a feeling he had. 

Pulling into the parking garage for his apartments, Derek yawned before turning off the ignition. He’d definitely figure it out, it was only a matter of time before he caught him. A matter of time or, he supposed, the end of the game, in which case he’d likely lose his chance.

He didn’t want to lose his chance. It was a little exhilarating, honestly, playing chess with someone he didn’t know. It felt like learning a little bit about someone, move by move. Derek’s opponent was interesting: he made really bold, big moves, but only sometimes. Sometimes he barely changed anything at all, and Derek had to wonder what he’d been thinking at the time.

He fell asleep reading about chess strategies online.

The next morning, Derek got to work a little early just to move his chess piece. It was a good one, he was sure of it – as long as his mystery opponent didn’t figure him out, he could drag the game on forever. That’d give him the best chance of figuring out who the hell it was. He just needed to keep the game going as long as humanly possible. 

It was a month before he caught sight of him.

Derek was just scribbling a name onto a cup when the movement caught his eye, and he tilted his head to watch a tall, redheaded man in a brown field jacket and plaid flannel reach out and pick up a single chess piece. He moved it as soon as he touched it, not appearing to think about it at all, setting it down and putting his hands in his pockets for a moment to stare at the board when he was finished. The man nodded once before turning away just after the barista called the name for the americano order at the bar: Will.

Derek set the cup he’d just written “Anita” on down a little harder than necessary.  _Gotcha._  He watched Will pick up the cup with large hands. He had freckles everywhere, it seemed like. He popped the lid off his cup, blowing on the coffee as he turned to leave.

He had an  _amazing_  ass. Derek raised a brow. “Wonder what he does for a living?” he muttered.

“Fireman,” said Joy, taking the next cup and checking to see what she was supposed to be making. 

How did she – was she talking to him? “Sorry?” Derek stared at her.

“The ginger,” she said. “He’s a fireman.”

 


	2. patater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: hi! if you're still doing prompt could you please do kent/alexie or kent/jack with 44. “If you really loved me there wouldn’t be a choice.“

“If you really loved me,” Alexei said, putting on his saddest face, “there wouldn’t be a choice.”

“Oh my god,” said Kent, “are you literally guilt-tripping me into eating tiramisu right now?”

Alexei sighed heavily. “Is our last meal together for some time, Kenny,” he said. “And –”

“Don’t call me that,” Kent said.

“– And I want to share dessert with you!” Alexei finished.

“Dude,” said Kent, “I said I would, I just want something else.”

“But is coffee in tiramisu,” said Alexei. How could anyone pick anything else?

Kent rubbed his temples. “Oh my god, you’re worse than Jeff. Fine. Fine, we’ll share tiramisu. Happy?”

Alexei grinned.


	3. spider; nurseholtz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: “I live next door and I heard screaming so I came over thinking someone was getting murdered and now we’re both trying to get the spider out of your apartment” au Please? Because I could really use a laugh?

“I already told you that it is  _not_  a tarantula, Adam.”

“It’s  _huge_. Like, came from a rainforest huge. And I can’t sleep in here with that thing –” he was gesticulating wildly with his shoe, now. “You know what? Fuck this thing. Fuck it. I’ll give it the apartment, shit. I just – there’s a CVS down the road –”

Jesus fucking Christ. “Okay, damn,” said Derek, “chill. Fuck.”

Honestly, going by the sounds he’d heard coming out of Adam’s open door, he’d thought the man was  _dying_. Serious violence, serious bloodspray style. 60 Minutes type shit.

Instead, he’d run out of his apartment to find Adam out in the hallway, holding a shoe and staring into his apartment. Derek didn’t even know Adam that well – he’d seen him in the hallway or at the mailboxes before, but they weren’t, like, friends or anything. Adam was just the tall, blond, hot guy that lived two doors down and put irritatingly bright lights in his window during holidays.

The tall, blond, hot guy that apparently suffered from severe arachnophobia, because  **damn**.

“It probably ran away,” Derek said.

“Lies,” said Adam. “It’s hiding in here, plotting my demise.” He gave the sofa a furtive glance. “Probably planning to pounce as soon as my back is turned, fuck.”

“Okay, it’s not like a personal  _thing,_ here,” Derek said. “We’ll just, y’know. Find it.”

“And violently,  _violently_  murder it.” Adam crept into his bedroom after Derek, following him so close that Derek could smell his soap.

Axe. Because of course. Goddamnit.

“Yeah, whatever,” said Derek, “sure. Violent murder. Got it.”

“I wanna see a  _corpse,”_  Adam declared.

 


	4. spider 2; nurseholtz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one goes with the previous.  
> original prompt: Nursey & Dex, 28. “I didn’t lose it, I just misplaced it.”

"So, uh,” said William, trying not to laugh, “you  _lost_  your boyfriend’s dog, huh?”

“I didn’t lose it,” Nurse snapped, digging around for the leash. “I just – misplaced it.”

“It’s literally a Great Dane,” said William. “They’re huge.”

“ **She** ,” Nurse said, “is a baby, and she’s not that big.”

Except that Moose totally  _was_  that big, she was a giant freaking dog, just like Nurse’s giant freaking boyfriend with his giant freaking teeth and his  _giant_  freaking personality. William rolled his eyes a little. He really didn’t know what Nurse saw in the guy, he was loud and liked show tunes and ate his cereal soggy.

Not that, y’know, it was any of William’s business. Because it wasn’t. But still. Nurse had signed them up to babysit Moose the giant puppy without asking and, like. It was polite to let one’s roommate know ahead of time if one was going to house a small horse in the apartment for a weekend! Right?

Nurse was already stepping out the door to look for her, pulling his jacket on and holding a weird, cactus shaped toy. “Moose!” he called, using that sweet tone of voice he always used with her. “C’mere, girl!” He made a kissing noise, and William sighed just a little more.

He really didn’t like Adam. It was just – he was annoying. That was all.

 


	5. spider 3; nurseholtz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one goes with the previous two.  
> original prompt: “Why are you giving me such a hard time about this?”

“Look, Adam,” Derek said, staring at the teensy jumping spider trapped under a giant glass bowl. “You know I love you. But this is ridiculous.”

“It is not,” Adam said, still standing about a foot back behind Derek.

“This is like, the tiniest spider I’ve ever seen,” Derek said. “Chill.”

“That’s because – that’s not –  _it’s still a spider_!”

Rubbing his face, Derek glanced at the clock on the stove. 4 in the fucking morning. “ _Ay, dios mío_ ,” he muttered. “I don’t want to deal with this right now.”

Adam swallowed audibly behind him, and Derek sighed again. Fuck. Okay.

“Why don’t you just come stay at my place?” he offered.

“Well – it’ll still  _be_  here in the morning and I –” Adam stopped talking suddenly, and Derek turned around.

“What? You what?”

“Did you just say you love me?” Adam asked.

Derek swallowed. “Uh,” he said. “Yeah.”

 


	6. party animals; holsom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: 104: “…or we can chill in our underwear.”

“Raging party tonight, brah,” said Ransom, shutting the faucet off and grabbing his towel.

“Yep,” said Adam, scrubbing soap from his hair. “Epic. Or so I hear.”

“I bet we can, like, pick up some –”

“Totally,” said Adam, without letting him finish, because for some reason his stomach felt tight and he didn’t want to hear it.

Ransom kept going, though, talking about their past escapades with a wistful bit of fondness that Adam had realized a few months ago he did not share. Or, rather, he shared it all right, just a bit… differently.

Shutting off the water, he grabbed for his own towel. Ransom was suggesting pregaming at the Haus, or something, and it was just – “Or we can chill in our underwear,” Adam muttered.

Ransom paused, turning to look at him.

Adam rubbed at his hair with the towel, giving himself an excuse not to look at Ransom’s face.

“Sure,” Ransom said, “we can do that. Wanna watch  _How I Met Your Mother_  and fire up a –”

“Sandwich,” said Adam, “yeah. Totally.”

 


	7. fight club; nursey & dex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: Dex and Nursey for Writing Prompt #12 “Okay, the blood isn’t mine, calm down.”

Dex is washing blood off his knuckles when Nursey gets back to the Haus after class, casually standing in the kitchen with water pouring over his hands. He’s just sort of staring at his hands.

“What happened?” Nursey asks. “What did you do to your hands?”

“Okay, the blood isn’t mine,” Dex says, not looking up, “calm down.”

“What do you mean it’s not  _yours_?” Nursey asks, because what the fuck else is he supposed to ask? “Whose is it?” 

Looking down at his hands, turning one over, Dex shrugs one shoulder. “Okay,” he says, “so I guess a little bit of it is mine. But it’s fine.”

“What  _happened_?” Nursey repeats.

“I got in a fight.” Dex turns the water off. “It’s not important, man. Fuck it.”

 


	8. sleep; zimbits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: 1. “Go back to sleep.”

"Go back to sleep."

Jack’s voice was rumbly and soft. Bitty took a quick breath, opening his eyes.

He was in Jack’s apartment. 

He was in Jack’s apartment and not at school, locked in a closet by kids who hated him. The darkness in the room felt heavy, and Bitty wished, suddenly, that Jack used a night light the way Kent did. The night light helped.

“It was a dream,” Jack said, sliding an arm around Bitty’s waist.

“Yeah,” Bitty said. “Just a dream.” He snuggled into Jack’s chest, tucking his face down against the warmth of bare skin. Bitty attempted to focus Jack’s soft breathing, tried to make his own match it.

“Jack?” he whispered, after what felt like an hour. 

“Mmm?”

“Can – can you get a night light?” Bitty bit his lip, chewing at the soft inside.

“We’ll get one tomorrow,” Jack murmured. He rolled over just enough to reach his bedside table, flicking the lamp on. 

Relief flooded through Bitty’s body, relaxing his spine. “Thank you,” he said.

“Of course,” Jack said. He pressed a soft kiss to Bitty’s forehead. “Go back to sleep,  _mon petit chou_.”

 


	9. liar; parswoops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: "you swore you'd never lie to me!"

“You swore you’d never lie to me!” Sara’s voice was loud, carried easily in the coffee shop.

“C’mon baby!” Jeff held up both hands. “I never lied about anything! We never said we were exclu–”

Sara tossed her coffee at Jeff’s shirt, covering him in mocha latte. He winced. It was  _hot_. It was supposed to be lukewarm! 

Bitch.

Later, as Jeff stripped off the shirt in his Jeep, Kent dug around in his bag for their plane tickets. The whole idea was that they could go on vacation with no questions asked. Like, people would think they were just going as bros since Jeff was obviously an asshole. Which – why did  _Jeff_  have to be the asshole?

“D’you think we sold it?” asked Jeff.

“Totally,” Kent said. 

“Why did I have to be the cheating jerk in this scenario?” Jeff complained, scrubbing at his bare torso with a baby wipe. It was sticky. He smelled like cocoa.

“Because nobody would believe I’d do it,” Kent said, sounding just a bit too smug for Jeff’s liking. It was true, though: Kent wasn’t known for dating around. Nobody ever caught him with anyone. It wouldn’t have been believable, and they were trying to avoid big gay drama, anyway.

“Well, I wouldn’t either,” Jeff muttered, yanking a t-shirt over his head. 

Kent leaned over, catching Jeff’s mouth with his in a gentle, quick kiss. “I know, babe,” he said. “I’ll make it up to you in Maldives.”

 


	10. hospital; zimbits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: 16. "Please don't leave me"

He’s shivering. It’s freezing in the hospital room, of course he is – but Bitty hates it, anyway.

“Please don’t leave me,” Jack says. They don’t have to stay, not unless something’s really wrong. But he looks so shaken.

It was a pretty big hit. Jack had left the game immediately and Bitty met him at the door as they were leaving for the hospital. He’d waited through some testing and now they are both just… waiting for answers, for permission to leave.

Because Jack is awake and talking and Bitty is certain they can go home soon.

“Of course not.” Bitty draws closer to the side of the bed, laces their hands together. Does Jack really think he would?

It’s hard not to freak out with Jack in the hospital, waiting for some information about a concussion, but Bitty knows he has to keep it together. It’s just hockey, that’s what Jack always says about injury, but it must be the extended stay in the hospital that’s getting to him – because he’s not very zen, just now. Bitty brushes careful fingers through Jack’s hair, gritty with sweat. “We’ll go home soon, honey,” he says.

Maybe he’ll get a couple of games off. Jack won’t like that very much, but Bitty will. Jack curls their fingers together, closing his eyes.

“Don’t go to sleep,” Bitty says.

“I’m not,” says Jack. “I’m not.”

 


	11. librarian AU; parswoops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: #48. “I’m not bothering you, am I?” with Jeff and Kent?

“Sorry, uh –”

Startled, Kent looked up from the computer. He’d been in the middle of cataloging stuff for the archives. The man in front of the counter was very, very tall. Kent turned in his seat, narrowly avoiding knocking his mug of tea over, and cleared his throat. “Ah, yes?”

“I was looking for a book and the computer says you guys have it but I can’t find it on the shelf,” the man said. He had pretty eyes, dark brown framed with long lashes. “Can you help me?”

Kent glanced back at the computer screen. Fuck, he was never going to get this finished. He was already running behind. Every time he started working on it when they weren’t busy, some random person showed up needing a librarian’s help and then he got all kinds of sidetracked…

“I’m not bothering you, am I?” the man asked, running a hand over his dark hair. “I can, um. I’ll just look again, okay?”

Ah, jeez. “No!” Kent pushed the button to lock the computer screen and shoved his mug a bit further from the edge of the desk. They’d kill him if he spilled it  _again_  that week. “It’s no trouble! Seriously. I’ll – gimme a minute, I’m just gonna –” he went around the side of the circulation desk. The guy was even taller when Kent stood next to him. “Um.” 

“I’m Jeff,” the man said.

“I’m Kent,” Kent said. “What, um.” Right, manners. “It’s nice to meet you. What book are you looking for?”

“It’s  _Anti-Bias Education in the Early Childhood Classroom_ ,” Jeff said. 

Oh, god. Was this guy a teacher? Hot. Kent flushed. “Sure, let me just take a look back here, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Jeff said. “I mean, it’s in your catalog as being here.”

“I’ll check the returns real quick, okay?” Kent smiled. “Just wait here for a minute.”

 


	12. witch!Bitty AU; zimbits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: 4. over a cup of tea
> 
> this one goes with [nothin' says lovin' like somethin' from a coven](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7709152/)

Jack has only just lifted his hand to knock on Eric’s door when it swings open, leaving him standing with his fist in the air. His neck hurts, muscles pulled tight. Eric smiles the way he always does, golden and warm, and Jack wonders why he ever tries to knock. 

“Hi, honey. Long day?” Eric asks, tilting his head just a little to left. He is wearing Jack’s sweater, looking at him the same way he’d looked at him when he read his palm, and Jack wonders how he knows.

He always knows.

“Yes,” Jack says, stepping through the door as Eric moves aside. It’s cool in the apartment, and as Eric shuts the door behind him, Jack lets his shoulders relax. Eric’s cat winds itself around Jack’s ankles, purring. The windows are open, a light breeze stirring Eric’s filmy curtains. It smells like bread and cinnamon and the traces of incense, heady and sweet.

“I’ll make you some tea,” Eric says, and not a moment later the kettle whistles from the kitchen. As Jack follows him he can see the dark mug he always uses out on the counter, can watch the constellations appear as Eric pours hot water inside. Eric has gentle hands, and Jack’s eyes follow them as he places the kettle back on the stove, cuts bread, puts it on a plate.

At the table, Jack closes his eyes and wraps his hands around the mug, inhaling the sweet, herbal aroma of the tea. It’s not the same as the tea Eric sends Jack home with, nor is it the same as what he’d made for Jack’s mother. This is mint and anise and wintergreen, soothing in the way Eric’s hands are soothing as they trace down the back of Jack’s neck. The skin tingles where he touches, warm and cold all at once.

“I love you,” Jack murmurs, eyes still closed.

Eric kisses just near his ear, eyelashes brushing the skin before he pulls away. “I love you, too, sweetpea,” he says.

 


	13. nosebleeds; zimbits?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: hiya i hope you’re still accepting prompts: jack zimmerman has chronic nose bleeds. he sneezes too hard? blood. he rubs his nose? blood. turns is head 1/21st of a centimeter too hard? BLOOD.

It’s really fun, playing laser tag with the guys on the hockey team. Shitty says it’s for “team bonding” and that they always go in the beginning of a year. Bitty can admit that he was nervous, going out with a bunch of jocks he wasn’t that familiar with, but he’s pretty good at laser tag. He’s small and fast and so far, he’s already shot Adam – no, Holster – at least twice.

He’s in the middle of a strategy session behind a rock with Shitty and Jack when something wet lands on his knee. Looking down, Bitty jerks before realizing he can’t exactly get away from the dark liquid when it’s  _on_  him. Looking up, he stares at Jack. That is definitely his blood.

“Oh,” says Bitty, “gosh. um. You wanna maybe tilt your hea–”

Jack is already pinching at his nose, tilting his head and letting out an aggravated sigh. Bitty glances at Shitty, who shrugs.

“He’s a fragile Adonis,” Shitty says.

“I’ll be right back,” says Jack, holding his laser gun in Bitty’s general direction. 

Taking it, Bitty frowns. “Do you always have nosebleeds in laser tag?” he asks.

Jack is already leaving, not paying attention, and Shitty elbows Bitty in the side. “He’ll be fine, this happens all the time,” he says. “Focus, or else Rans and Holtzy are gonna kick our collective ass.”

“I’ll go right,” Bitty says, peeking around the rock.

“Perfect,” says Shitty.

 


	14. SMH halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: prompt: group halloween. jack is prince eric, bitty is flounder, shitty is flounder, chowder is the bird, lardo is ursula (only because she had a wicked dress idea) and holster and ransom are flotsam and jetsam. dex is that crab thing and nursey is laughing his ass off in the background- taking pics and handing out candy. (did i forget anyone?) (also i have never seen the little mermaid)

“I need that other bag!” Dex yelled, trying not to get his Sebastien crab arms stuck in the doorway as he dropped handfuls of Snickers into kids’ trick-or-treat bags. The orange of his costume matched his hair, and Nursey had been laughing at him all night.

“See?” Bitty whirled around to grin at Jack. “I told you we needed that much candy! He’s on the second to last bag already!” He pressed a hand to his red wig, making sure it was in place – the scale-print holographic booty shorts and purple tank top shouldn’t have been enough to keep him warm in October in Massachusetts, but to be fair? He’d had a lot to drink. “What about that, Prince Eric?” He giggled

Eric.

Jack gave him a warm smile. He really did look nice in that white button down and blue  _leggings_. Very nice. “All right, Ariel,” he said. “You were right.”

“Ohhh, say it again,” said Holster. He and Ransom were trapped in eel costumes, which for some reason they’d decided ought to be stuck together.

“Say what again?” Jack asked, tone dry.

“Lardo!” Nursey waved an arm. “Get in front of Rans and Holtzy! I want a picture!”

“What about  _us_?” asked Dex, turning away from the doorway.

“This  **is**  a group costume, bro,” said Lardo, her glittering dress taking up an exception – and spookily LED lit – amount of room.

“I can’t see Bitty,” Nursey said, as they crowded together.

Jack grasped Bitty’s waist, hoisting him up before he could protest.

“H– whoa!” Bitty threw his arms around Jack’s neck.

“Everybody say cheese!” Nursey grinned at them.

Instead, there was a rowdy chorus of “ _poisson!_ ” 

 


	15. argument; charmer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: Wait, you're accepting prompts? What about Chowder and Farmer making up from a fight?

She finds him on the ice. It’d be less surprising if he were actually doing hockey stuff, but Chris is just skating, making listless circles and figure eights. Once she’s gotten her skates on, Caitlin leans against the boards and just watches him for a little while.

She hadn’t meant to get so mad at him. It was just – the apartment was a mess, he’d been distant for weeks, and when she came home to find him just flopped onto the sofa, she kind of lost it, and Chris had screamed right back. They’d gone to bed without speaking.

He looks up, finally, notices that she’s there. Winces.

Making his way over to her, Chris shoves his hands into his pockets. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” says Caitlin. 

“I’m sorry,” Chris says, “I – I don’t know what got into me.” His face is worried and earnest, and Caitlin realizes she hasn’t seen his bright, happy smile in a while.

Caitlin reaches for his hand. “Remember junior year,” she says softly, “when you just couldn’t get out of bed for a while?”

“Yeah.” Chris’s voice is very quiet as he laces their fingers together.

“Is that what’s happening now?” Caitlin squeezes his hand. “It’s okay if it is, Chris. Well – it sucks, if it is, but –”

“It doesn’t mean I should yell at you,” Chris says.

“I know,” says Caitlin. “It’s okay. But I think maybe you should call Kathleen again.”

Chris swallows. “Yeah,” he says, after a stretch of silence. “I think – I think you’re right.”

 


	16. an HH AU; parswoops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: parswoops -- first kiss
> 
> this one is some kind of HH AU.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on Kent filming a video – it was just that he was early to pick Kent up. They never even talked about his videos, so Jeff assumed that Kent didn’t think he knew about them. This one wasn’t music, though. This one was question and answer. 

The questions were completely random. They asked about his favorite cereal, favorite color. Jeff bit back a laugh when Kent answered one about his cat. That person was lucky they hadn’t gotten a three-hour lecture on how wonderful Kit was. There were questions about his age and whether or not he was a natural blond and who his favorite pop star was. Nothing on the list was news to Jeff at all, not until – 

“Do I like guys?” A pause. “Yeah.” Kent cleared his throat and moved on to the next question, but Jeff couldn’t really focus on anything else he was saying.

 _Yeah_. 

Jeff sucked in a hard breath, feeling a bit winded.  _Yeah_. Fuck. Kent liked guys. He – Jeff could have a chance. He could – they could –  _Jesus_.

He was still standing there when Kent jerked his door open, still speechless as Kent’s eyes went wide. 

“H-how long have you been standing there?” Kent asked.

“Long enough,” said Jeff.

Kent swallowed. “Oh. Um. Look, Jeff, I –”

Jeff didn’t remember bringing his hand up to cup the side of Kent’s face, wasn’t sure at what point he bent to kiss him. Kent’s lips were soft, vaguely minty and warm, and Jeff  _almost_  pulled back until he felt Kent’s hand gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. Jeff lurched forward a little, catching himself with one hand on the doorjamb, curving his other arm around Kent’s waist.

They came away from each other breathless.

 


	17. TA!Jack AU; zimbits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: Prompt: Bitty having to take a class during the summer to be able to graduate. it happens to be French. Jack helps?

It wasn’t that Bitty  _minded_  having to take a class. Summer school wasn’t his idea of  _fun_ , but it meant staying in Massachusetts instead of going home, and that was a compromise he could absolutely, 100% deal with. No, taking a class over the summer wasn’t bad at all.

It was just that the class was  _French_. 

Bitty was not good at French. It was boring and difficult and they had all those letters they never even used in almost every single word. What was the point of that? Why write the letters if you’re never going to say them? And why did he even need French in the first place?

And so, yeah, maybe he went to the first day of class a little bent out of shape about it. And  _maybe_  he hadn’t bothered to look at any class materials ahead of time. He was a good baker, not a good student. But even if Bitty had looked at the online portal for his course and pulled up the information about the teacher, nothing could have prepared him for the man that walked in the door.

Nothing.

He was really, really, really ridiculously good-looking. He was also huge, tall and muscular and Bitty was not entirely sure how he’d managed to get his ass into those dress pants. Did they even  _make_  pants for proportions like that? This guy had to have a tailor. 

Lucky tailor.

The man cleared his throat. “Welcome to French II,” he said. “My name is Jack Zimmermann, and I’ll be your TA for this course. We have a lot to get done in a short amount of time, and this’ll be the only day I’ll allow English in this class.” He glanced up at Bitty, meeting his eyes for a moment. “My office hours are outlined on the syllabus that you can find on the portal. Have you all accessed the course materials?”

Everyone else nodded. All Bitty could do was stare.

 


	18. movies; zimbits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt from a list of cuddling prompts: 18. While someone’s crying

“I’m lost,” said the little blue cartoon on the television. They were curled up together on a lazy Sunday afternoon, soft rain pattering against the windows.

Jack sniffled. It was really, really quiet, but Bitty was  **sure**  he heard it. He twisted a little, turning so he could see Jack’s face. “Oh, honey,” he said. 

Rubbing at an eye with the heel of one hand, Jack cleared his throat. “’M fine,” he said, voice a bit rumbly.

“You are so sweet,” Bitty said. He tucked himself in under Jack’s arm, snuggling close. “You precious, adorable thing.” He pressed a kiss to Jack’s cheek. “It’ll have a happy ending, I promise.”

Jack’s arm tightened around him. 

 


	19. coach meets bob

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: If you’re looking for some prompts, how bout this? Coach meeting Bad Bob?

“Bob,” he said.

“Rick,” said Bob, extending a hand. “Glad you could make it.” He gestured to the other side of the booth. “Have a seat.”

Sitting down, Coach Bittle gave the menu a cursory glance before ordering a beer. They spent a few minutes doing the small talk thing before Bob rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. 

“I just wanted to check in with you,” he admitted. “See how things were. With the boys.”

“They’re fine,” said Coach. “It’s – an adjustment. But they’re happy.”

Bob smiled softy. “They are happy, aren’t they?” he said.

Coach let out a sigh. “Incandescently,” he said, “according to my son.”

Bob laughed. “That sounds like Bitty,” he said, and something in Coach’s face warmed a little.

 


	20. hiding; jack & shitty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: Prompts! #10 for everyone's favorite apparent extrovert (though I don't buy it): b. shitty knight

The door opens and shuts behind him and he knows, he just  **knows**.

Jack sighs, rubbing his temples with shaking hands. “Shitty,” he says, because who else would come looking for him? “C’mon.” It’s been a long day, and he’s really, really not in the mood. There’s a raging kegster downstairs just ratcheting up his headache and the last thing he wants is to be dragged down into it, especially after yesterday. “Get out of here.” 

He’s been sitting in the dark trying to shut out the uncomfortable, shivering feeling in his chest that’s half nausea and half hunger for air. It’s not like this is the first kegster this year. And it’s fine. He just – hiding in the Captain’s room seemed like a better option than being downstairs.

“Please get out of here,” he repeats.

“Uh –” Shitty swallows, and Jack turns to look at him. He looks… like Jack feels. “Please don’t make me socialize.” 

Jack frowns.

After a minute, Shitty’s shoulders curl forward. “Sorry, bro,” he says. “I didn’t think anybody was in here, and…” he trails off. “Y’know what, I can – I can like, chill somewhere else, I’m sorry to bother you, man. I –”

“You can stay,” Jack says, because he can’t really say anything else. When Shitty shuffles to the bed and sits next to him, letting out a sigh before flopping backwards to lay on the bed and stare up at the ceiling.

“It cool if we don’t talk?” he asks, after a minute.

Jack nods.

 


	21. anxiety; zimbits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: J. When words aren’t enough.

Settling into Jack’s lap, Bitty runs gentle fingers through dark hair.

A lot of the time, now, Jack seems fine. He doesn’t get as anxious as he used to. Things have been so good for them, lately – the Stanley Cup, Bitty’s bakery, buying a house. It’s been a lot, but most of it great. They’re happy. Solid.

Still, Bitty knows that sometimes it’s not about everything being great. Sometimes it’s not really  _about_  anything at all. Sometimes it’s just a thing that happens, like rain, and the best thing he can do is just… be there. 

Stick around. Hold an umbrella.

So he murmurs soft things and tells Jack how much he loves him. They sit together like that for a while, Jack trying to slow his breathing down and Bitty just  _being_. Jack’s lap is warm and his grip on Bitty is tight, but Bitty doesn’t mind.

The sun will come out; it always does. And Bitty has learned that the world looks more beautiful after it rains, sometimes.

 


	22. morning; zimbits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: C. A moment’s respite, zimbits

His alarm hasn’t gone off yet, and Bittle’s got his arm thrown across Jack’s stomach, face smushed down by his ribcage because Bittle loves to burrow into covers. The light peeking through the curtains is the pale silver of early morning. Jack looks up at the ceiling, takes a breath.

Playoffs are stressful. They were stressful in college too, but it’s different, now. He isn’t sure he’s handling it well enough. To be fair, Jack isn’t sure about a lot of things a lot of the time.

Bittle mutters something in his sleep, not real words, and Jack smiles. There is  **one** thing he’s sure about. And in their bedroom, with Bittle’s fingers twitching because he’s dreaming about jam or jelly or preserves and Jack isn’t really sure what the difference between those things in, the playoffs feel far away. His breath comes easy.

Maybe Bittle will make pancakes.

 

 


	23. nurseyrans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: can you do nurseyrans for the speaking normally before the kiss but having a hoarse voice afterward one? thanks!

It occurs to Justin when he shifts his leg forward, slotting in between Derek’s thighs as they’re making out in the basement, that this is not exactly the first impression he’d wanted to make. That said, Derek is… unnecessarily hot. Make you wanna do things to him that are probably illegal in at least six provinces hot. He’s smart. He’s good at hockey. He smells uncommonly amazing. It is inconvenient.

And they’re both hard.

“D’you wanna get out of here?” Derek murmurs, lips close to Justin’s ear. Fuck, it’s hot. He’s hot. Get out of here, though? Like, to the dorms? 

Not really. Justin turns his head, catching Derek’s mouth with his, dragging Derek’s lower lip in between his teeth. Derek pushes him back against the wall, crowding him, gripping at his hip. It’s perfect.

When they part for air, Derek’s lets out a shivering sort of sigh. “I said –” his voice is raspy and strained and he swallows. “I said d’you wanna get out of here?”

 


	24. parswoops, past pimms vaguely implied

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: For the kiss prompt- first kisses/ their entire body freezing for a second when their love kisses them Parse/ Jeff

“Hey,” Jeff said, not one second after Kent opened the door.

“Hey.” Kent took a step back to allow Jeff into the hotel room. 

Jeff pulled the door shut behind him. Kent returned to his seat on the bed, pulling his guitar back into his lap. He glanced up at Jeff. “What’s up?”

“Can we talk?” Jeff asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“’Course.” Kent gripped his guitar. “What, um. What are we talking about?”

Jeff tilted his head. For real? “You,” he said. “Tonight. That.”

“I changed my mind,” Kent said. “I don’t want to talk.”

Jeff sat on the edge of the bed, leaning his elbows on his knees. “He didn’t tell you ahead of time, I’m guessing,” he said, thinking of Zimmermann kissing a blond boy in the middle of the ice after winning the Stanley fucking Cup. Kent's face had just --

“Why should anyone tell me anything ahead of time?” Kent’s voice was tight, controlled. 

Jeff shut his eyes. Fuck it. “Look,” he said, finally. “I can’t do this any more. I can’t pretend nothing happened or that it didn’t hurt you and I can’t force myself to laugh at shitty jokes that aren’t funny and I can’t –” he swallowed. “I can’t keep pretending I’m not in love with you, okay?” He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes.

For a moment, he couldn’t hear anything except the sound of his own breathing, and then –

And then Kent leaned in and kissed him.

 


	25. just friends; past patater maybe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: I wish you would write a fic where... Kent practices being friends with people who he's crushing on, practices managing his expectations (and fails a little, and gets better.) <3

His phone was ringing. Pulling it out of his pocket, Kent looked at the screen –  _Alex._  He chewed his lip. He hadn’t heard from Alexei in a while – not since he snowed the goalie at that game. Why was he calling now? Was he still angry?

Kent had thought they were supposed to have a drink after that game, but Alexei hadn’t shown up and they hadn’t talked about it. It was only half surprising, anyway, because Kent wasn’t even sure Alexei actually liked him at all, much less liked him  **back**. For all he knew, the guy was straight, anyway. Most people were, right? And even if he weren’t, did Kent really want to deal with that, again? It would be a nightmare, he  _knew_  it, and –

Words from his therapist sprang, unbidden, into his mind.  _By definition, an expectation is not an agreement between people; it’s a belief_ _about what the future might hold, based upon strongly held assumptions._

Kent took a breath. 

He was supposed to be trying not to assume things so often. He was  _supposed_ to be trying to learn how to balance people in his life without crushing them too close or shoving them away. He could do this. 

Maybe.

Pushing the button, he answered the call at the last possible moment. “Alexei, hey,” Kent said. “It’s been a while.”

 


	26. another patater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: #49. “The library is free.”

Alexei hummed a little, dragging his fingers over the spines of the books in front of him. It was so hard to make a choice.

“You know,” said Kent, standing next to Alexei with his hands in his pockets, “you could just go to the library, right?”

“Mmhmm,” Alexei said. But the library didn’t always have what he was looking for! And new titles hit bookstores first. He pulled out a hardcover to read the inside flap.

“Because then you can _return_  the book and it won’t take up space in your place,” Kent continued. He was always going on about Alexei putting sideways books on top of other books in his bookshelves. He struggled a little with things being… out of order. “Plus, the library is free, so –”

“Parse,” Alexei said. 

“Mm?”

“Hush.”

 


	27. coffee shop AU; zimbits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: “You said I’d have proper training!”
> 
> this one is a coffeeshop AU.

“Where’s Knight?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him,” Justin said. “But I gotta go, I have class. Sorry, man!” He punched out immediately after and made for the door, leaving without looking back.

“Well. Bittle, you’re on the register today,” Murray said, and all Bitty could think was –  _seriously_? It was his, like, fourth shift! He didn’t know how to run the register by himself yet!

“But –”

Murray picked up the phone to answer a call before Bitty could get his sentence out.

Ah, he was so fucked. He stared at the register. Was he even logged in?

The sound of a throat clearing grabbed his attention. “Uh – hello,” Bitty said, looking up. He blinked. A tall man in a suit and tie was staring at him. His cheekbones were  _magnificent._  “Sir,” he added. 

“I’ll just take a latte,” the man said. “Medium.”

“Okay,” Bitty said, glancing down at the register. Latte. Right. He could totally do this! It was, uh – this button, right? He punched a few keys.

The total came up to $45.

“Euh,” said the man.

“Oh dear,” said Bitty. “Let me just –” He punched a few more keys and ended up accidentally adding three more dollars. “Uh.”

The man blinked. “Do you need help?” he asked.

Murray hung up the phone, starting to walk right on by before Bitty gave him a frantic wave. “Bittle, what are you –  **$48**? What did you do?”

“You said I’d have proper training!” Bitty said, staring at the cash register keys. “I don’t know how to clear this –” looking up at the man, he flashed a quick smile. “I’m sorry, sir, this’ll just take a minute. Obviously your coffee isn’t going to cost you $48.”

“It would have to be really good coffee,” the man said.

 


	28. karaoke; bittyparse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: It’s 3 am and you’re the only person in the bar that knew all the lyrics to my favorite song and now we’re doing bad karaoke au for Kent/Bitty? <3

In a karaoke bar that had, until an hour ago, been full of dudebros – including his coworkers – someone was singing Beyonce. The place was almost closing, Bitty hadn’t heard anyone at the mic for an hour, and  _now_  some guy was doing  _Formation_.

Bitty gripped his glass. He was not going to turn and look. Wasn’t gonna do it. He was not –

Oh, fuck. Now he was doing Britney. 

Turning in his chair, Bitty braced himself with one arm on the back of his chair. The singer was blond and freckled and, judging by the stretch of his shirt across his shoulders, hot as hell when naked.  _Jesus_.

It didn’t look like anyone was with him. When his next song choice was Mariah, it sealed the deal – Bitty got out of his seat, still carrying his LIT. The closer he got, the hotter the guy was.

“Hey,” he said. “Wanna do a duet?”

The guy’s crooked grin was way too charming for Bitty’s blood alcohol level. “How do you feel about Whitney?” he asked.

“Oh, God,” Bitty said. He was so fucked.

 


	29. karaoke; parswoops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: “it’s 3 am and you’re the only person in the bar that knew all the lyrics to my favorite song and now we’re doing bad karaoke” au. This feels like it has Kent Parson written all over it.

Kent was back. Jeff had learned his name after the third week in a row. He’d started coming in a while ago, always by himself, always sitting in a corner. He’d stay a while and then he’d leave, and he always drank Laphroaig.

But tonight?

Tonight he was singing karaoke – which was  _insane_  because he never seemed to want any attention and Jeff couldn’t remember  _ever_ seeing him near the karaoke area  _at all_. And he was good, that was the weird thing, he was really, really good and he was singing Fleetwood Mac and honestly, Jeff hadn’t seen anyone get all the words to  _Sara_  in a long time. People always sang  _Go Your Own Way_  if they did Mac at all.

That was Jeff’s excuse – it was the Fleetwood Mac, not the guy, that got him to stay once his shift was over and spend an hour singing through a whole bunch of songs with him. Kent didn’t know the lyrics to any of the Pearl Jam they had, but he tried. It was adorable.

“You know,” Jeff said, once he’d finished a Dire Straits song, “we’re closing. I mean, we’re closed. A while ago.”

Kent looked at his watch. “Ah, fuck.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry to keep you, I’m sure you wanna go home.”

Jeff took a breath. “You wanna go with me?”

 

 


	30. sick; charmer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: 40. “I have to take you to the doctor.” 

Chowder’s forehead is sweaty. His forehead is sweaty, but he’s curled up under about six Sharks blankets and complaining that he’s cold. Caitlin doesn’t think it’s cold in his room at all.

“Chris,” she says, for what feels like the third time, “c’mon. You look awful.”

“I can’t believe my girlfriend is telling me how awful I look,” he says, but it doesn’t come out as funny as she’s sure he meant it to.

“Seriously. I have to take you to the doctor. You look like you have a fever –”

“We have a game tonight,” he says, “you know that. I’m not going to the doctor. It’s fine! I’ll take some Tylenol, and –”

“No,” says Caitlin. “Uh-uh. We’re going to the doctor. And I don’t think you’re gonna play tonight, babe.”

Chris glares at her from under his huddle of blankets. “I’ll take some Tylenol,” he repeats.

“I’m telling Bitty,” Caitlin says, and Chris groans.

 


	31. in the Q; pimms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: 17. “If we both stick to the story, they can’t prove anything.”

 

“Ah,” Jack breathed, “fuck. Fuck.”

Kent wasn’t sure if Ollie actually  _saw_  anything when he walked in, but – well, it didn’t matter. It would be his word against theirs, anyway. And they weren’t, like. Doing anything  _too_  wild.

Were they? Okay. Maybe so. And it was stupid to do it in the shower, but it was  _Jack’s_  idea anyway and they’d thought they were the last people there, so…

“It’ll be fine,” he said, grasping Jack’s shoulder. “Seriously. It’s –”

Jack was breathing faster, trembling a little under Kent’s hand. “No, Kenny,” he said.

“We’ll just say I was, I don’t know. Looking at an injury for you or something,” Kent said. “We can say you were worried about it and I was just helping you out.” That was a great excuse for being on one’s knees. Right? 

Yeah.

“Nobody would believe a stupid story like that,” Jack said.

“If we  _both_  stick to the story, they can’t prove anything,” Kent said. “Just go complain about your hip real quick or something. It’s –”

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Jack ran shaking hands through his hair. “Fuck. I’m gonna – I gotta go find my bag, I –”

“ _Me_?” Kent stared. It wasn’t his idea! “I didn’t –” Jack left before he finished his sentence.

 


	32. apartment manager!Jack AU; zimbits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: 24. “The landlord changed the locks.” please, if you want another prompt. thanks!

 

“Oh my God,” Bitty said, trying his door a second time. It didn’t budge. What the  _hell_? What was this? His key definitely wasn’t working. Pocketing it again, he headed down to the building manager’s office.

Knocking once on the door, Bitty pushed it open. “Excuse me?” he said. A dark-haired man looked up from his paperwork. He was the only guy in the office.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“My key isn’t working,” Bitty said, holding it up. “I’d like to know why? And I’d like to get into my apartment?” He glanced at the man’s nametag. “Jack.”

“Oh,” Jack with amazing cheekbones said. “What apartment is it?”

“412,” Bitty said. “A.”

After consulting the ancient computer on his desk, Jack coughed. “Euh,” he said, “the landlord changed the locks.”

“ _Excuse_  me?”

“It looks like there was a mistake,” Jack said quickly. “412 B moved out last week, so –”

“So y’all can’t read y’all’s apartment numbers, or?”

Jack flushed and it looked pretty on him. “I’ll get you a new key,” he said.

“Personally?” Bitty asked.

 


	33. i don't drink.; patater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: 32. “Is there alcohol?” 

“Hey,” Kent says, pulling open his door. He’s in comfortable clothes rather than a polished suit, and his eyes look tired. Vegas lost to Providence that night.

“Hi,” Alexei says.

It’s the first time he’s been over to Kent’s house. They’ve been talking on the phone for what feels like forever, but they haven’t spent a lot of actual time together. Alexei thought it might be nice to change that, so he’d suggested they get together after a game – and Kent had offered his place right away. 

It’s cleaner than he’d expected, clean as a point of style. The house is bright and airy and open, and it sort of smells like rain, which seems interesting considering what a desert Las Vegas is. When he steps inside, Alexei is immediately greeted by Kent’s large, fluffy, honey-colored cat. 

“You want something to drink?” Kent asks, shutting the door behind them and moving toward his kitchen.

Nerves rattle in Alexei’s stomach. “Is there alcohol?”

“Oh,” Kent says, turning back. “No, I – I don’t keep it around. Is that okay? I have, um. Soda? And tea. And water.”

“It’s fine,” Alexei says. Unexpected, but fine. There’s a story there, he’s sure of it.

 


	34. HoH!Kent; pimms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: 15. Loud, so everyone can hear

“What?” Kent leans forward, eyes a little wider. Jack repeats himself, but Kent can’t hear him and the restaurant is too dark for quality lip-reading. He should’ve asked Jack not to take him to candlelit places, but he hadn’t thought about it.

Kent’s still learning his limits. It’s weird and hard and he wishes, at least once a day, that he’d learned sign language as a kid instead of having to do it now, when he can’t hear any more. Shaking his head, he scoots a little closer on the bench. “I still can’t hear you,” he says. Hearing aids, he’s learned, don’t really work the way he’d always assumed they would.

“ _I love you_ ,” Jack says, only now it’s loud enough that the people the next table over stop talking and turn to look at them, two men sat in an Italian restaurant alone.

Kent swallows. More people are staring, now. Kent’s cheeks heat with what he knows is a pretty obvious blush. “Oh,” he says, “uh. I love you, too. I, um. That’s why we’re at dinner, right?”


	35. high school AU; parswoops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: 6. “Let me kiss you. I’ll kiss you so passionately that you’ll whimper because behind that kiss, all my pain and feelings will appear.”

“Let me kiss you. I’ll kiss you so passionately that you’ll whimper because behind that kiss, all my pain and feelings will appear – you have got to be kidding me!” Kent looked up from the script in his hand. “Who  _wrote_  this play?”

“Pretty sure it was Mr. Smith,” Jeff hissed, “so maybe don’t complain about it so loud?”

“This is stupid,” Kent said, lowering his voice a little. “Nobody would actually say this.  _Nobody_. It’s like those romance novels my mom keeps in the bathroo–”

“There a problem here, Mr. Parson? Troy?”

Both boys looked up at their teacher. 

“Uh,” said Jeff.

“Nope!” Kent flashed a bright smile. “Just going over lines!” He looked back to Jeff as Mr. Smith walked away. “D’you wanna practice the kissing scene instead?”

Jeff grinned.

 


	36. cuddles; charmer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt from a cuddling list: 30. Out of necessity (man y’all love this one, eh?)

“I’m sorry,” said Caitlin, because what else could she say? The Sharks were out of the playoffs, and Chris was  **devastated**. Of course he was! He loved that team. He’d been so pumped. She slung an arm over his chest, snuggling up close.

“I know,” Chris said. He sounded so  _down_. “I was just really hoping we’d get to the final again.” His thumb brushed back and forth across her hand.

“There’s always next year.” Caitlin pressed a kiss to Chris’s cheek. 

“Yeah,” said Chris. “I know.”

She needed to find some kind of distraction. “Hey. You wanna order a pizza and watch  _Friends_ with me?” Caitlin asked.

“Yeah,” Chris said, after a minute. “That sounds great.”

 


	37. cuddles; zimbits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt from a cuddling list: 19. While someone’s sick

“Mmm.” Jack rolls onto his side as Bitty eases into bed next to him. It’s cold and he’s hiding under the covers. According to the urgent care clinic, it’s strep throat.

“Hi, honey,” Bitty murmurs, tucking up close and resting his forehead on Jack’s back. “You feelin’ any better?”

“I am now,” Jack says, threading his fingers through Bitty’s. squeezing gently.

“I made soup.” Bitty kisses the back of Jack’s neck. “You should eat something.”

“In a minute,” Jack says, closing his eyes.

“All right, sweetheart. In a minute.”


	38. cuddles; parswoops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cuddling list original prompt: 14. In public

“J – someone’s gonna  _see_ ,” Kent hissed, scooting his chair just a little.

Of course someone was going to see. They were at the NHL awards. “So? I don’t care,” Jeff said. He hooked his hand under the edge of Kent’s seat, pulling it close. “I hope they do.” Slinging his arm across the back of Kent’s chair, he shifted until their thighs were touching.

Kent swallowed. He glanced at Jeff before leaning into his side just a little, letting one hand sit on Jeff’s thigh. “Fine,” he said.

“Yeah?” Jeff grinned. “Can’t wait to kiss you when you get an award. It’ll be all over TV.”

“My mom’s gonna have a heart attack,” said Kent, but he didn’t move his hand.

“Hey, babe?” Jeff asked, after they’d sat quietly for a second.

“Mm?”

“Love you.”

Kent smiled. “I love you, too.”

 


	39. platonic cuddles; zimbits with a side of bittyparse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cuddle list original prompt: totally platonic

“Ugh,” Bitty sat down on Jack’s sofa. He was so  _tired_. 

“Long day?” Jack handed him a glass of water.

“Yeah,” Bitty said. “How do you even deal with all those press conferences? It’s a nightmare.”

Telling the media he was not only Kent Parson’s boyfriend but also his  _fiancé_  all in the space of a week had resulted in a lot of attention. Bitty had tried to prepare for it, but it was really – it had really been a lot. Too much, maybe. At Kent’s urging, Bitty’d taken a sabbatical to Providence, leaving Kent to deal with the press himself.

Jack sat next to him. “It’ll get easier,” he said. “They’ll forget about it after a while, probably. It’s just so new.”

Bitty leaned his head on Jack’s shoulder. “I get why you didn’t want to be the first one to do it, now,” he said.

Jack wound an arm around Bitty’s shoulders. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” Bitty said.

 


	40. cuddles; patater with a side of parswoops with a hint of pataerswoops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cuddle list prompt: with snow outside

Providence was, in all honesty, freezing.

Now that Eric lived with Kent and Jeff in Las Vegas, Jack was the long distance boyfriend – it made sense for Eric to visit him when Kent was away on road trips and Jack was home, just like it made sense for Eric to spend time with Jack and not Kent when they were in Providence. At first it was hard to get used to, the idea of being in the same city as his fiancé but not spending the night with him. 

Alexei made that easier. Jeff liked him – a lot, actually. Jeff and Alexei got along like a house on fire, both of them quick to laugh and easy to be with. They were both very warm people, and in retrospect, Kent should’ve known they’d be good friends. 

Maybe more, really. As Kent curled up on the sofa, settled against Alexei’s side, he watched Jeff make cocoa in the kitchen. It all seemed so… normal? Even though they didn’t really spend all that much time with Alexei in Providence.

When Jeff brought them both giant mugs with reindeer on them, Alexei tugged at Kent with his arm, pulling him closer. “Make room, Котенок,” he said. 

Kent scooted, making room for Jeff on his other side. They were watching  _Love, Actually_  and as Jeff slid in under the blanket next to Kent, he gave him a shy sort of smile before hooking one of his legs up under Kent’s thigh.

Kent loved that smile. Alexei glanced over, brushed his fingers along Kent’s shoulder. They were all tucked up on the large sofa, snuggled together under the blankets in a warm, tired pile. “You know,” he said, after a long minute, “if you like, you can stay overnight.” 

“Well, yeah,” Kent said. Didn’t he usually spend nights with Alexei in Providence?

Jeff took a drink of his cocoa. 

“I’m mean both of you,” Alexei said.


	41. another HH AU; bittyparse, parswoops, hints of bittyparswoops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: 17. “I have contemplated becoming a hermit.”
> 
> this is like, barely an HH AU, but it still is one

Jeff threw himself onto the bed, burying his face in one of the soft pillows. Kent was in the shower, getting ready for bed. Eric was already under the covers, propped up against pillows with a  _Harry Potter_  book on his lap.

He reached over to push gentle fingers through Jeff’s hair. “What’s up, honey?”

What’s up?  _What’s up?_  Jeff let out a deep sigh. How could Eric just ask  _what’s up_  like that when he knew full well what was going on?

Kent and Jeff’s relationship had gotten… more public than they’d counted on, and now they were suffering through the media storm Jeff had worried about. There were both happy fans and pissed off fans, people who defended how good Jeff was at hockey and people who said the only reason he was even in the NHL was Kent. It fucking sucked. And he couldn’t escape it anywhere.

At least Eric hadn’t gotten caught up in it. 

Yet.

“I have contemplated becoming a hermit,” Jeff said. His voice was muffled by the pillow.

“You’re a little tall to be a hermit,” Bitty said. “Wouldn’t you need to live in a cave?”

“I could just stay here,” Jeff said. “Or I could move to the mountains. There’s plenty of room in the mountains.”

“Well,” said Bitty, sounding very sensible, “I’m not bringing lemon squares to the mountains.”

 


	42. not an HH AU somehow; parswoops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: can i kiss you? parswoops

Fuck.

How did this work? Was Jeff supposed to say yes? Kent was staring up at him, eyes that sort of soft, luminous blue that reflected the light perfectly. Jeff swallowed.

No one had ever asked if they could kiss him before. It was so – it was so sweet, honestly. Jeff took a breath.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, um. You can.”

Kent reached for him, pressed their lips together in what was possibly the most gentle, tender kiss Jeff had ever experienced in his life. He wound his arms around Kent’s torso, pulling him close. When the kiss ended, Jeff had to take a minute to breathe. 

“Fuck, I love you,” he said.

 


	43. good day; nurseyrans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: have a good day at work

 

Derek stretched, unwilling to leave the soft sheets at such a ridiculous hour. What time was it? “You’re going?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said Justin. “I’m on call, I just got a page.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s two forty-five.” Justin leaned down, pressing a kiss to Derek’s cheek. “Honestly, I probably won’t be home for a while.”

“Have a good day at work,” Derek murmured, eyes still closed.

Justin laughed.

 

 

 


	44. good shabbos; patater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: 13. “Sorry I’m late.”

Kent rushed through the door. God, he was  _never_  late! Alexei was going to think he didn’t care at all. But it wasn’t his fault the traffic had been so un _fucking_ believable! And it wasn’t his fault that the GPS gave him incorrect instructions. What was he supposed to do?

He’d let himself in to the house to see that no one was in the living room. Fuck. That meant they’d already gone to the table, didn’t it? Kent ran a hand over his hair. Did he look presentable?

It didn’t matter, he couldn’t waste any more time. It was almost sunset. Taking a deep breath, he walked into the dining room with what he hoped was an air of urgency.

Every single head swiveled to look at him. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Kent said. “The GPS –”

“Tell you to take side street, yes?” Alexei finished for him. His eyes were warm, but Kent could see by the faint rumpled look of his hair that he’d been nervously waiting. Alexei motioned with one hand for Kent to come stand next to him.

“I’m glad you make it, Kent,” said a tall, dark-haired woman. She had to be his mother. “Alyosha has told me so much about you.”

“Yes ma’am,” Kent said, “thank you.” He brushed fingers over the back of his head, feeling out of place as the only man in the room without a  _kippah_.

“Welcome,” she said.


	45. ugh; zimbits, patater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: 11. you’re the asshole of our group and we don’t get along, but then i find out you make soup for the local shelter

It’s not that Bitty didn’t like Kent, it was just –

Well, okay. Bitty didn’t like Kent. He was an egotistical asshole, his instagram was nothing but his cat, he’d said some awful stuff to Jack a couple years back, and Bitty hadn’t forgotten about it. So, yeah. He didn’t like Kent. And, like, that would’ve been fine because Kent was all the way in Las Vegas, except that Kent  **wasn’t**  all the way in Las Vegas, because he was currently in Jack’s kitchen, taking up space while Tater ‘helped’ Jack peel potatoes. Bitty knew that Tater and Kent were… involved. Like, Jack had told him. But knowing something and seeing it were two different things, in Bitty’s opinion.

Kent kept giving Bitty these furtive glances, like he knew he wasn’t really welcome in Jack’s apartment. Bitty had tried, honestly, to at least be polite to the guy. Still, Kent didn’t really say much. He seemed kind of different from when Bitty met him at the kegster, but still. Bitty had no idea why Jack had invited him, except out of obligation to Tater.

Which – it was  _weird_ , the idea of Kent and Tater. What did Tater even see in Kent? He was such a nice guy. He more than made up for Kent’s awkward silence, talking about the Aces’ bye week like he had more to say about it than the actual Aces player in the kitchen. Kent hadn’t really said more than maybe five words since he’d arrived.

“We should go,” Bitty heard Kent say.

“Already?” Tater sounded so disappointed. Bitty wondered how often that happened.

“I –” Kent paused, and then Bitty couldn’t hear the rest of whatever he said. 

When he ducked into the kitchen, Bitty saw Tater bend to press a kiss to Kent’s cheek. “Y’all leaving so soon?” he asked.

“We have to make a soup,” said Tater, pulling away from Kent. “At shelter. Is tradition for Kenny.”

“Don’t call me that,” Kent said, hunching his shoulders a little.

The shelter? “I thought y’all were staying for dinner,” Bitty said.

“Kent likes to spend Thanksgiving volunteering,” said Jack, and Bitty felt his cheeks go hot.

“Oh,” he said.

 


	46. axe murdered, b&b style; holsom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: 06. we always carpool home for the holidays from college but a storm hit and now we’re taking the last room at the local b&b (bonus: bedsharing! we’re adults!); Holsom

“Dude, we’re gonna have to stop somewhere,” Adam says, and Ransom pulls his phone out, tapping the screen. He’s probably looking up reviews, looking for a place, trying to book a room ahead of time. Like an adult. 

It doesn’t matter, though, because Adam saw a sign for a place called The Candy Cane Inn a couple of miles back, and honestly? He’s tired of trying to drive in this storm. He’s going to take his chances.

Well, their chances. Whatever.

“I saw a sign,” Adam says. “Bed and breakfast. We can stop for tonight.”

“If they have rooms,” says Ransom, because he’s always thinking of stuff like that.

“They will,” Adam says. They just need a place to stop. 

Turns out, the Candy Cane Inn has exactly one room vacant. It’s vaguely creepy, too, and the little old woman behind the desk is dressed up as Mrs. Claus. It looks like Christmas threw up on the place. Adam glances over, but Ransom doesn’t seem to care – the storm’s getting worse, and visibility’s gone to shit. If Adam won’t drive in it? Ransom  _definitely_  won’t. He’ll take anything at this point, Adam’s pretty sure.

They take the room – it’s called the Sugar Plum Fairy Room, apparently, which. Fine. Adam carries his bag up the stairs and turns left, as directed, walking all the way down the hall toward a purple door. It creaks when he pushes it open, because of course it does. Adam reaches in to flip the light switch before stepping through the doorway.

The whole room is done in purple. There’s lace, there’s a porcelain doll in a rocking chair, and the fake flowers have glitter on them. There are frills around the bottom of the four-poster bed, and –

Wait. The four-poster bed? As in, the only bed in the room? It’s a full size, at least, but. Fuck. Adam isn’t sure he’s entirely prepared to sleep next to Ransom in a purple, fluffy, full sized bed. He honestly hasn’t slept next to Ransom in a little while now, because it’s stupid to let yourself hope for things you know you can’t have, torture to try and give yourself a little bit of something that’ll never be yours.

Adam turns around, but Ransom is already pushing through the door. “Bro, is it just me or is, like, the lady at the desk kinda creepy?” He stops, stares around the room. “One bed, huh?”

Adam nods.

“We’re gonna get axe murdered,” Ransom says, after a moment. 

“We are not getting axe murdered,” says Adam. “And we can leave first thing in the morning, so just – we’ll just shut the door and like, not come out.” He was pretty good at not coming out, if he did say so himself.

Ransom just stares at him, doing that little eye twitching thing he does sometimes when he’s really freaked out. 

“We’re gonna be fine!” Adam insists. “It’s one night!”

The wind howls outside, and Ransom shudders just a little. “Doesn’t Hanukkah start like, tomorrow?” he asks.

“We’ll make it in time, bro.” They can leave first thing. Adam’s not entirely sure they’re gonna be able to sleep, anyway, but at least they’re not driving. 

After they brush their teeth, side-by-side in the bathroom because neither of them wants to go by himself, Adam gets in on the left side of the bed. It’s closer to the door, so on the off chance that they are, in fact, about to be axe murdered holiday style, at least he’s between Ransom and the door. That’s like, the manly thing to do or whatever. Like, the right thing to do. Like, if Adam had to pick one of them to be axe murdered, he’d totally die for Ransom.

“I always sleep on the left side,” Ransom complains, just as Adam sets his glasses on the nightstand.

“Not tonight,” Adam says. “Get in, loser. We’re going to sleep.”


	47. domestic ice; nurseydex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: 08. i slip on some ice and you’re the stranger who catches me The thought of people who are massively good on ice for their actual job slipping on random ice in the wild amuses the hell out of me :D

 

It was not, strictly speaking, Will’s fault that he slipped. A man could not be expected to be prepared to step on ice at any moment in time, after all. It was one thing to be on ice one was prepared for and quite another to suddenly happen upon, say, a patch of ice hidden under some snow on the front steps of one’s apartment building. His arms were full of groceries, in his defense, and as his footing slid out from under him in front of God and everybody, in occurred to him that rationalization might be a very weird response to finding oneself moments away from completely eating shit.

Except he didn’t hit the pavement face first. 

Somebody caught him, all two-hundred and something pounds of him. The sound Will let out was not at all dignified, and he grabbed at the person without thinking. It was a small miracle they didn’t  _both_  fall at that point.

“I hope you didn’t have eggs in there,” a warm voice said. 

Will looked down at his grocery bag. “I did,” he said. Fuck. Looking back up, he blinked at his savior’s bright smile. “Hidden ice,” Will said, after a moment. 

“Yeah, but – dude, don’t you play hockey for a  _living_?” the man asked. He had green eyes, not that Will noticed, and he brushed his hands over Will’s shoulders before letting go, like there was snow all over him, or something. “Ice is kind of your thing, right?”

“Uh,” said Will, because yes, yes he did. He did play hockey for a living. Still, ice at a rink and ice in the wild were different beasts. “I’m used to domestic ice,” he said, like an idiot, and the man laughed.

Will wasn’t making sense.

“As opposed to wild?” the man asked, and Will blinked at him, because  _yes_ , actually, but  – how’d he follow that?

“I’m Derek,” the man added, after a moment.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dex plays for the Bruins and I really should turn this one into its own story.


	48. non-NHL!jeff AU; parswoops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: 2:  i sit at the rental booth at our local ice rink and watch you teach children how to skate

The Parson trade to Calgary was a huge deal. Jeff read about it on the news and everything, because even though his brother had retired from Vegas a few years back, he still followed their news. And, like, he’d expected Parson to stay in Vegas for basically forever. Everyone had.

The last place he’d have expected the guy to sign was Calgary. 

Still, Kent Parson plays for the Flames, now, and he’s – he’s currently in Jeff’s ice rink, teaching a skating class to kids. It’s really, really cute. Jeff’s nephew is in the class, even though he already knows how to skate because Jeff taught him. 

Kent’s been teaching this class for two weeks. Jeff has watched every single one of them, and it’s  _not_  creepy or weird, because he works the rental booth so he has an excuse. And he is  _not_  staring at Kent Parson’s ass, no matter what his sister-in-law thinks.

Ever since Jeff came out, she thinks he’s in love with every man he so much as glances at. It’s irritating, but not as irritating as the constant attempts at finding him a husband. Not that Jeff doesn’t, like.  _Want_  a husband? Exactly? But he’s pretty sure he’s never been in love, and that seems like a prerequisite.

Kent laughs at something one of the kids says. He has a nice laugh, kind of bubbly and warm. The kids love him. He’s really good with them, actually, very patient. Jeff likes him best out of all the skating instructors.

Once Kent’s class ends, Jeff loses sight of him like always – the ice fills with new people, new classes, and he has plenty to do, renting skates and accepting returns. It’s a pretty busy day, all in all. Once the tide finally ebbs, Jeff takes a moment to organize the shelving, which has… somehow, despite his best efforts, turned into a complete disaster.

He gets maybe a little too into it. Someone clearing their throat at the counter finally catches his attention, and he glances back over his shoulder. Someone’s definitely waiting on him. “Oh, uh – sorry, I’ll be right there,” he says.

Jeff stands to help the customer, brushes off the seat of his pants. “How can I help you?” he asks, realizing seconds later that he’s asking Kent Parson.

Kent is staring up at him. He’s set a pair of figure skates on the counter. A child’s, obviously. “Tall,” Kent says, after a minute.

“Yes,” says Jeff, because he is an idiot.


	49. nobody's mama; no ship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt "who hurt you?"

Eric’s eye hurts. He slips out of the bathroom stall after peeking to make sure everyone was gone. Standing at the sink, he splashes water on his face before leaning forward to look at his eye in the mirror. It’s definitely gonna be black tomorrow, no two ways about it, and there’s  _no_  way he’s hidin’ it from Mama once he gets home.

He’s late. Of course he is, he waited for Johnny and Blake to leave, and they waited around a while for him. Eric didn’t wait long enough, of course, and he’s got the shiner to prove it, that and a whole mess of stuff he absolutely isn’t repeating to his parents. Some of it might even be true. 

He’s gotta come up with something to say about that eye, though. He needs some kind of excuse about how clumsy he is runnin’ into whatever-it-was. He needs a good one, something believable, but the whole walk home he can’t seem to come up with a blessed thing.

Mama notices as soon as he’s come through the screen door.

“Dicky! You’re late! Your daddy’s home already and dinner’s just about on the table. Come here and help me with these dish– oh Mylanta, not again.” She sets her spoon down as Eric sets his bag down, heads for the sink to wash his hands.

She intercepts him before he can get there. “Who hurt you?” Mama presses a cool hand to his forehead, turns his head a little so she can take a look at his eye.

“Nobody,” Eric says, tossing his head to get it out of her hands, because ‘nobody’ is easier than saying Johnny did it. Johnny’s on daddy’s team. 

Johnny’s the running back.

Mama’s lips press together into that thin little line she always gets when she’s holding something back. “I see,” she says. “I oughta talk to Nobody’s mama.”


	50. excuse me?; parswoops unrequited, implied past pimms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "Excuse me?"

“He’s never gonna do it,” Zimmermann murmurs, face close as they both lean forward at the faceoff circle.

The ref is about to drop the puck, Jeff knows it, can feel it, and he knows this is all a tactic, meant to get a rise out of him so he’ll lose. He tightens his grip on his stick.  _Focus on the game_. He can’t help it, though. “Excuse me?”

“Kent,” Zimmermann says, and his eyes are cold. He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t need to. There’s no mistaking what he means, and there’s no mistaking what  _that_  means, what Zimmermann obviously knows. This is dirty hockey for him, unlike him, from the little Jeff knows from playing him a few times, watching tape. Zimmermann’s no angel – nobody in the league is, that’s not how it works – but this is low. 

Jeff doesn’t like that he knows, hates even more that it came onto the ice.

“Shut up,” says Jeff, muscles in his shoulders going tense. He wins the faceoff but they lose the game.

When they leave, Kent’s eyes are on Zimmermann, and Jeff’s chest hurts.


End file.
